


A Single Apple

by whitedandelions



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Advent Calendar, Fluff, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, No Horcruxes, Original Character(s), Professor Tom Riddle, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27868293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitedandelions/pseuds/whitedandelions
Summary: In a stroke of luck, the Master of Death and Tom end up in a bond.  Since Harry is with him, Tom doesn’t need horcruxes anymore, allowing him to focus all his energy on conquering the Wizarding World.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 56
Kudos: 421





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be updating this every few days for the month of December using a random word generator!

**December 1, Word: Apple**

A single apple shouldn’t be enough to summon anyone. It’s hardly an offering, unless Tom is trying to summon a horse of all things, but well, one second he’s alone in the temple, and the next, he’s not.

He hadn’t even been trying to summon anything. Instead, the apple that had been resting in his pack had almost fallen as he had gotten out his notebook and in a moment of impatience, Tom had placed the apple on top of the dais. He had forgotten about it until now, when a chill had permeated through the air and a young man had appeared out of thin air. He was now sitting on top of the dais, red apple securely in his hand.

Tom hesitates to speak since he doesn’t want to offend a deity if he could help it, but he doesn’t have to wait long. 

After taking a bite of the apple, the man takes the ratty hood off his head, revealing a surprisingly normal human-looking face. He’s attractive, but Tom had expected him to be considering their circumstances, and he’s looking rather pleased as he finishes chewing. “This is delightful,” he tells Tom, and Tom is at a loss for words as the man takes another bite of the apple before fixing the full of his attention on Tom. “I haven’t had human food in Merlin knows how long.”

He still doesn’t know what to say, so he stays silent as the man finishes off the apple in quick, small bites, barely chewing before swallowing and before long, it’s just the core left. The man finally gets off the dais, tossing the core somewhere, and approaches Tom with just a few quick strides. Tom doesn’t back away and keeps his gaze on the man, because he isn’t afraid even though there’s something sinister in the man’s aura. He’s not afraid of anything, except Death, and even if Tom had come here looking for a way to cheat Death, he’s not going to back down if he can help it.

“You’re not afraid of me,” the man says when he’s close enough to reach out and touch Tom, and Tom resists the urge to back away because the otherworldly being really doesn’t know the definition of personal space. “Which works out since we’re bound together now.”

“Really?” bursts out of him before he can control himself, and the man raises an eyebrow in amusement as Tom grits his teeth in annoyance. “An apple binds us together?”

“It’s the human food,” he explains, “since I ate it, it means I can stay here.”

“And who are you?”

“Weren’t you the one looking for me? I’m the Master of Death. I mean, it is my temple. And you did summon me with the apple so.”

In seconds, Tom realizes it’s much more beneficial not to correct him on what he was really doing here, so instead of saying anything, he just nods, knowing the surprisingly chatty Master of Death will probably fill in the rest of the details by himself. 

* * *

**December 2, Word: Lake**

The Master of Death goes by the name Harry.

It’s the name he had when he was still human, but that’s apparently all he can remember. Just his name. Nothing else.

Harry was new to this Master of Death business. And although he wouldn’t tell Tom any details, apparently there was a reason Harry had bound himself to Tom.

Since the bond was beneficial to the both of them, Tom had buried his curiosity and let Harry do what he wished. Of course, Tom hadn’t known the bond was beneficial to him at first – in fact, he had been convinced that he somehow invited a parasite (a very talkative, exuberant, never sleeping parasite) into his life and Harry wouldn’t explain _anything_ – until Harry had glanced over his shoulder and seen what Tom was reading.

He hadn’t seen Harry angry until that moment, when Harry had waved his hand and thrown the book out of the cabin and straight into the lake outside.

“You won’t need it,” he said when Tom had aimed a curious glance at him, and that was the exact moment Tom found out that he couldn’t die. Not when he was still bound with Harry.

“Oh,” was all he said, but by the way Harry was suddenly smiling at him, he knew that he hadn’t been successful in concealing his expression in time.

* * *

**December 3, Word: music**

Harry likes music.

He likes human music probably more than he should, and he figures it’s probably a remnant from his past life that he can’t remember.

Apparently, Tom had only rented out the lakeside cabin for the summer to research on what heirlooms the world had to offer. And now that Harry had come into his life, he no longer needed the heirlooms. Tom had wanted them to make into horcruxes, and it had been a long, long night when Harry had found out about Tom’s previous horcruxes.

Two short weeks later, and Tom was finally starting to speak to him again. Apparently forcing your human bond into giving up their horcruxes tended to make them very upset with you. Harry had filled those two weeks with finding a variety of music to listen to, and had a grand time going out into the town nearby. Replicating the notes on his newly constructed guitar was easy enough, and the day Tom finally starts to talk to him again, Harry shows him how to strum some chords. 

Tom’s sullen at first, but eventually comes around, and by the end of the night, Tom doesn’t seem so angry with him anymore.

And Tom, when he’s not hiding anything from Harry, is enjoyable company, even more so than the humans Harry met when he was in town. 

Perhaps spending time up here won’t be so bad if Tom continues to smile like that.


	2. Chapter 2

**December 4, Word: salad**

“I don’t think I like this,” says Harry.

Tom sighs, pushing over his plate to Harry. Harry brightens, discarding the salad and taking a bite out of the steak Tom had ordered. “I told you not to order it as your main dish.”

Harry wrinkles his nose, “Back where I’m from, salads don’t taste like this.”

“And what do they taste like then?”

Harry must be in a good mood, because after taking a bite out of the steak, he hovers his hand above the salad. Immediately, the green, leafy lettuce wilts, becoming a rather unappetizing color.

“That’s disgusting,” says Tom, flatly, but when Harry grins at him, he sighs, picking up his fork and trying one tentatively. “This tastes like jerky,” he says, “I don’t see how that’s any better.”

“It’s not like people miss salads down there,” says Harry, and at first, when Harry switches the topic, Tom thinks the conversation is over.

But when they walk through the door of the restaurant, they end up somewhere else.

“Now that you’ve had some of our food,” says Harry, brightly, as if he hadn’t just brought Tom to wherever they are: to a place full of death and sadness and whatnot, “I can show you around.”

* * *

**December 5, Word: bedroom**

There’s a lot of chaos down under. People are shuffling about and there seems to be an order to things, even though Tom can’t really tell what’s going on. People greet Harry as they continue to walk somewhere, because of course Harry’s popular with just about everyone just like he is when they’re up on the surface.

Harry continues to chatter as they walk, pointing out the various things he thinks Tom would find interesting. There’s a fountain of _blood_ pooling somewhere, and it should smell disgusting, but it doesn’t. Tom figures it’s just for the aesthetics of the place, which is somewhat telling when Harry leads him past the fountain and into a smaller room behind it.

“I thought we were heading to the dining room,” says Tom, because it’s obvious that they’re not in a place with food: there’s a bed in the corner and a fancy chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling, and a huge mirror nestled on the side of the wall.

An owl alights on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry magics treats out of somewhere, feeding them happily to the owl he later introduces as Hedwig.

“We just ate,” points out Harry.

“So you took me down here to show me your bedroom?”

Harry pauses, and Tom would later realize just how suggestive he sounds when he thinks back on it. For now though, he thinks nothing of the way Harry’s eyes lower briefly before flickering back to his face.

“It’s a lot nicer than the one you have up there,” says Harry, lightly, and since there’s nowhere else to sit, Tom ends up on the bed, Harry sitting next to him as Harry continues to regale him with tales of his life down here.

Eventually, as conversation winds to a close, Harry shifts, moving closer to Tom. Tom tenses, about to pull away, when Harry hums. “You’re the first person I brought here that I haven’t bedded.”

“Excuse me?” asks Tom, and he can’t help the hotness that spreads to his cheeks as Harry grins boyishly at him.

“Nothing,” says Harry, pulling away. “We can’t be apart because of the bond, so do you want to spend the night here? Or we can go back.”

Harry’s obviously interested or else he wouldn’t have brought that up. Tom’s not listening as Harry continues to chatter on how easy it would be to magic them back up because he’s far too preoccupied trying to figure out if sleeping together would ruin anything.

He gives up on thinking as Harry pauses for breath because it had been far too long of a summer alone and he’s just about to move forward when something interrupts them.

* * *

**December 6, Word: Stranger**

There’s a stranger at the doorway, staring at them. She’s dressed in armor, with a high ponytail of blood red hair, and she’s staring at them with narrowed eyes.

Harry doesn’t notice her at first since he’s still looking at Tom, but since Tom isn't saying anything, Harry eventually turns.

The woman falls to one knee as soon as she has Harry’s attention, bowing so low her ponytail brushes the floor.

“Forgive me,” says the woman, “I didn’t know you’ll be stopping by, Master.”

Harry waves her away as Tom figured he would considering Harry. “No need,” he says, “I wasn’t planning to visit. Besides, I was going to find all four of you after this.”

She looks pleased at Harry’s words, straightening up before she notices Tom. “Is that him, sir?”

“Yep,” says Harry, “My human bond.”

“He’s cute,” she says unabashedly, “Should I leave the two of you to it then?”

The casualness of which she says so rankles Tom, almost as if she expected Tom to fall for Harry’s charms. And while yes, she probably felt that way because of the way she was looking at Harry – all doe-eyed respect and admiration – it still made Tom embarrassed. Did Harry really sleep with anyone he wanted?

That was enough for him to stand and aim his own charming smile at the woman. “It’s fine,” he says, “Harry just brought me here and all I’ve really seen is this place. Would you mind showing me around?”

The woman looks over his shoulder at Harry for a few seconds before nodding. “If you’ll follow me,” she starts, and Tom does so, leaving Harry alone in his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so full disclosure, I have an outline, but this won't be the most planned out story since the words are random!
> 
> Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed :D


	3. Dec 7

**December 7, word: signature**

Harry falls back onto his bed, knowing that War won’t lead Tom far enough away to bother the bond between the two of them. Besides, the bond would bother Tom more than it would bother him, and Harry’s feeling rather uncharitable at the moment.

He wonders if he ruined everything by being too forward. For all he knew, Tom’s one of those humans who preferred the fairer sex. By the way he had fallen over himself to talk to War was telling enough so all Harry really accomplished today was embarrassing himself.

Though really, it’s Tom’s fault for being so charming. Harry’s not human, so he doesn’t get hangups over silly human things – he really just wanted to have a good time and Tom’s the definition of a good time. That it didn’t work out shouldn’t bother him so much.

But it does because he can tell he made his human uncomfortable. Considering they were going to have to spend a few more years together, Harry would have to find a way to fix this. Of course, he won’t proposition Tom again, that was a given, but maybe he can find something Tom’s wanted.

He sits up, an idea forming in his head as he makes his way over to his drawers. He’s sure he saved some parchment somewhere around here, a gag gift from one of his many admirers since he’s known to want things from up above.

Sitting and penning the letter was a little more difficult, but Harry’s had experience with dealing with humans so it’s easy enough to prove his existence and end with a vaguely threatening suggestion. He signs it off with a flourish, making the D a little bit bigger for fun.

He’ll send it off when they get back to the surface, though Harry has a feeling that a letter won’t be enough to convince the human to give Harry what he wants.

* * *

The letter sits on the desk, the signature so loud and prominent that Harry can’t help the small smile that blooms because of it. It’s so tacky; he even penned a few blood drops next to it to really sell that it was _Death_ writing to Dumbledore.

He’s read his human’s file more times than he can count. He probably has it memorized by now. Tom and Dumbledore didn't get along, which made sense considering that Dumbledore had correctly guessed that Tom was going to become a Dark Lord and bring along destruction and pain for everyone. Of course, in the end, Dumbledore's actions did somewhat contribute to Tom's downward spiral, but it wasn't as if Dumbledore had the foresight of someone who could see the future so he really shouldn't be blamed. 

“I can’t believe everything you say,” says Dumbledore, and he’s trying to sound kind about it so Harry just shrugs and sits down, shoulders relaxed and posture slack.

“Ariana,” he says. That’s enough to have Dumbledore’s face change and when he continues, Dumbledore’s grip on his wand tightens, his knuckles white. “And that’s the Elder Wand. Death Stick. Whatever you humans like to call it.”

“How do you know this?”

“Because it’s mine?” he says, bored, and snaps his fingers, the wand disappearing from Dumbledore’s grasp without warning and ending up in his. He spins it once to show he had complete control before tossing it back to Dumbledore. He had no use for a wand; he didn’t need it to accomplish any of his tasks.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” says Harry. “You read the letter. I want you to make my human a professor. Any position is fine, though I do know he would like to be the defense one so yeah, maybe that one.”

“If you know that, then you know Tom isn’t fit to shape the minds of young children.”

"He's probably not the best choice," he admits, "But I know what happens in Tom’s future thanks to your refusal. It’s not pretty. The first step in Tom’s redemption is to become a professor. That’s what he wants most in life and I’m going to make sure he gets it.”

“So he does become a Dark Lord,” says Dumbledore, heaving a long sigh. “I had my suspicions for a long time."

"And so that’s why I’m here now. To _prevent_ it. Do you know what happens in the future? How much _paperwork_ piles up because of Tom? We had to do overtime for weeks before we caught up. So we found this to be the best solution and if we play our cards right, then Tom won't go off and become Grindelwald."

He's sure his words hit home because Dumbledore's expression changes at the mention of the Dark Lord he had just defeated and Harry continues, his voice kinder. "You obviously want this to work as well or you wouldn't have allowed Tom to stay at Hogwarts. If you agree to this, I promise I'll keep an eye on him and on the children he teaches as well."

He’s not lying to Dumbledore. Even Tom didn’t know Harry’s main goal even now, but that was it. Prevent Tom from becoming a Dark Lord and starting a war and most importantly, stop him from ever making another horcrux. As the Master of Death, Harry had a deep seated dislike of horcruxes because it messed things up in his system and made the next few weeks hell because it was extremely difficult to track down a horcrux maker.

They were lucky they were given permission to rewrite Tom’s future. Someone high up must really like Tom – or more likely, they liked someone that Tom killed in the future – to allow Harry to do this. It helped that it was a rather simple fix; Tom only wanted to be accepted and revered by the masses and becoming a Hogwarts Professor was a surefire way to ensure Tom didn’t go off the deep end.

And Harry had a few years to entrench Tom into that position. Find him a nice witch as a wife, encourage him to continue the Slytherin line, maybe even try to get him the Minister for Magic position, and there was no way Tom would go on a murdering spree. Especially with him giving up the horcruxes he made when he was younger, making him sane once more.

He's sure his position as Master of Death is the only reason Dumbledore is even listening to him right now, combined with the fact that Dumbledore probably couldn't even attempt to read his mind. Plus, having Tom become Professor not only allowed Harry's plan to work, it also allowed Dumbledore an easier way to keep an eye on Tom. Harry's read some of Dumbledore's file and he knew the old man wanted this to work - he probably even understood that this was the only way to prevent suffering down the road.

"Okay, my boy," says Dumbledore, ignoring the way Harry blinks in surprise at Dumbledore's jovial tone, "As long as you tell Tom to get rid of that curse he placed on the position. It'll be easier to hire Tom than to keep finding replacements year after year."

"He put a curse on the position?" he asks, unable to stop the laughter in his voice. It hadn't said so in the file, probably because the file had already been far too long and it was trivial information considering the mountain of other curses Tom had cast in his future. 

"Yes," sighs Dumbledore. "It's been difficult the past few years."

Of course his human would be this petty, although he had cast it when he had his horcruxes already made. He has half a mind to promise Dumbledore it won't happen again since Tom was now working with a full soul again, but Dumbledore's already pulling out parchment to write an official letter to Tom so he keeps his mouth shut.


	4. Dec 8 to Dec 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and rewrote some of ch 3 to make it so it was less confrontational between Harry and Dumbledore because I want to have Dumbledore and Harry get along.

**December 8, Word: Sour**

“This is really sour.” Harry’s grimacing when Tom looks up, and when Harry finally swallows, he reaches out, placing a lemon drop in Tom’s hand.

Harry’s much more silent than he realizes, probably courtesy of being the Master of Death, so it takes Tom a beat to calm his breathing before he realizes what Harry gave him.

“And why do you have this?”

“From Dumbledore,” says Harry, and the prat grins at him when Tom narrows his eyes. He doesn’t like Dumbledore, not even in the slightest, and he’s a little surprised that Harry knows who Dumbledore is in the first place. “I know you hate him; I’ve read it in your file.”

“My file?” he asks. “I didn’t know you guys had a file on me.”

“We have a file on everyone. Of course we do. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t know who to ferry home next.”

Tom has half a mind to get distracted by Harry’s casual mention of how life after death works, but well, _Dumbledore_. “And why are you visiting the person I possibly hate most in this world?”

“Well, as a treat for my _favorite_ human,” says Harry, all content and pleased with himself, “I’ve gotten you this letter.”

He bites back his initial retort of how he would never want anything from Dumbledore, and instead takes the letter from Harry, knowing Harry probably had a reason besides annoying Tom. As he scans the letter, his heart stops and he clenches hard onto the parchment. After a few seconds, he looks up at Harry.

“You really should remove that curse on the position,” says Harry, grinning at him, and Tom really wants to know what else is written in that file on him.

But first…

He’s going to be a professor at Hogwarts. His _home_. When Dumbledore had turned him away, he had been so sure he would never get another chance. But for some inconceivable reason, Harry went out and secured him the position. And Dumbledore had listened probably because of Harry was well, the Master of Death, and for some reason, it made Tom feel unbelievably fond toward Harry.

But he would never say it out loud, even though Harry looks like he knows exactly what’s going through his mind.

“What about our bond?” he asks. “You said we can’t be too far apart for more than an hour before it starts to hurt.”

“Hurt _you_ ,” clarifies Harry, but he doesn’t seem too worried about it. “I can make myself invisible and sit in on all of your classes.”

“That seems boring,” he remarks, and in a stroke of genius, he continues, “Dumbledore already knows you’re the Master of Death. Why not become a student?”

Harry makes a face, “And hang out with a bunch of teenagers?”

“You can be on the Quidditch team,” he offers, and Harry brightens immediately.

And just like that, Harry disappears without another word, probably off to go needle Dumbledore into making him a student.

Tom can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, turning his attention back to the letter in front of him. 

Professor Riddle. Or Professor Slytherin? If he’s going to be head of his House, he might as well go claim the name for himself. The Slytherins would never respect him otherwise. Though at the very least he will have Harry there to help.

* * *

**December 9, Word: Jam**

“Gryffindor,” says Tom, unable to keep the venom out of his voice, and Harry shrugs, looking resplendent in red and gold.

“The Hat said it suited me best,” says Harry, “and can I just say that it’s crazy you humans are letting an inanimate object look into your minds? That’s a lot of information you’re all just giving away.”

“Did it realize you’re well, Death?”

Harry nodded, looking smug. “Yep.” He doesn’t clarify, instead, reaching over for the strawberry jam, spreading it over his toast. 

“How _do_ the House-elves already adore you?” muses Tom, and he doesn’t normally eat right before bedtime but in all the chaos of Harry being sorted into Gryffindor and Tom being introduced as the new Defense Against Dark Arts Professor, it wasn’t as if Tom had eaten much dinner. So Harry had asked the House-Elves to deliver some food up to Tom’s quarters.

“Well like the Hat,” says Harry through a mouthful of food, “They can tell who I am. So, I wouldn’t say adore, but more like fear.”

Tom stares at Harry because the House-Elves hadn’t seem very scared when they had dropped off the food. But well, there’s no reason to correct Harry when there’s much more pressing matters to address.

“Why Gryffindor?” he asks. “I can deal with Ravenclaw, maybe, if not Slytherin, and well, Hufflepuff wouldn’t be my first choice, but _Gryffindor?_ ”

“I like their colors!” protests Harry. “It’s red. Like you know, blood.”

Tom hopes his disappointment is conveyed in his stare, but it obviously isn’t because Harry continues to eat his toast, just shrugging in the face of Tom’s ire.

“The Gryffindors were so welcoming, too,” continues Harry. “It’s nice not to see humans running away in terror when they see me.”

The Gyrffindors had been welcoming. Perhaps _too_ welcoming. The older girls had been eyeing Harry as if he was a piece of meat; a seventh-year transferring into the school gave them another option in the dating pool and Harry was _attractive_. There was no way they weren’t planning to try to get in his good graces.

He sighs and gives up, getting his own piece of toast to abate his appetite. “So when are you planning to head back to the dorms?”

“I’m not sleeping there,” says Harry. “It’s too far from you.”

Tom stares, willing himself not to react too obviously to Harry’s words. After the fiasco down in the underworld, they hadn’t talked about what had happened there. Even though Tom was sure Harry knew he had just been about to give in before War had walked in. And with all the time they spent together, they really did need to have a conversation about it. Harry probably knew Tom better than anyone else did, file on him notwithstanding, and well…Tom didn’t really like to think about it.

“Then you’re going to sleep here? There’s only one bed.”

“There was only one bed in the cabin, too,” retorts Harry. “But no, you know I don’t need to sleep. I’m going to go check on my horsemen.”

“Oh,” says Tom. “I’ll see you in the morning, then?”

“Yep,” says Harry, and with one last wave at Tom, disappears through the doorway.

* * *

December 10, Word:Coat

Harry doesn’t feel the cold like regular humans, so Tom takes it upon himself to make sure Harry’s wearing his coat when they head to the pitch to practice for Quidditch tryouts. 

At first, Tom had wanted to keep his distance. After all, Harry and he were teacher and student and a close relationship was going to be scrutinized by the other faculty members. 

Except with the story Harry had cooked up with Dumbledore, staying away wasn’t necessary anymore. Since Harry didn’t have a last name, and for reasons Tom couldn’t even _begin_ to understand, Harry and Dumbledore got along. Swimmingly. Something must’ve happened in the first conversation, and then when Harry had gone back to needle Dumbledore into making him a student, Dumbledore had taken Harry in as a ward. 

And then used the guise of Tom finding Harry and teaching him throughout the summer as an excuse of allowing Tom to take a position as a Professor. The other faculty members had always been fond of Tom so Tom really didn’t understand why they even needed an excuse, but well, it wasn’t as if he could really be as petty to say the idea was stupid when it was actually working. Not with the faculty members, but with the general perception by the public. People saw him in a better light, so Tom grit his teeth to get through the annoyance of having people address Harry as _Dumbledore_. Luckily, Harry was friendly enough and perceptive enough to realize Tom hated it, so he quickly allowed them to call him Harry before Tom could blow a fuse.

Except that was worse, because now everyone was calling Harry by his first name, and Tom was even more annoyed by it all.

But _still_. He was getting to teach so he figured small annoyances should be overlooked.

By the time they make it to the Quidditch Pitch, the sun’s already almost gone. There’s still enough light to see as Tom lugs over the chest that contains the Quidditch equipment, and before long, Harry’s flying high in the sky, and almost as if it was second-nature, catching the Snitch in just a few minutes.

When he lands, his cheeks are flushed and his hair wind-tousled. “That was exhilarating,” says Harry, his eyes shining. “I can’t wait to play in a real game.”

“I don’t understand how Quidditch interests you so much,” says Tom, eyeing the bludgers that had tried their best to throw Harry off his broom. 

“I don’t really know either,” says Harry, “I must’ve played it when I was still human. And well, it’s _fun_. The other team is trying to kill you! How can that not be fun?”

Tom blinks slowly, “Is this a weird Death thing I don’t understand?”

“I ferried so many people as a result of weird Quidditch accidents,” explains Harry, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I just had to play the game myself and see what it was all about. I’m going to practice some more,” he says, and before Tom can say anything, launches himself back into the air. 

Tom sighs and nudges the bludgers, sending them magically to chase Harry in the sky as he weaves around them masterfully. 

By the time Harry’s done practicing, the sun’s completely gone and the fall chill starts to settle in. He’s not wearing anything as thick as the coat as the one he’s given Harry, so he’s surprised when on their way back, Harry drops the coat on his shoulders.

“I know you humans get cold,” is all Harry gives as an explanation, and Tom doesn’t press and instead slips the coat tighter on, relishing in the warmth from Harry.


	5. Dec 11 & Dec 12

**December 11, Word: Suntan**

“Tom,” says Harry, excitedly, his eyes shining brighter than Tom’s ever seen them, “Meet Cerberus.”

Tom hesitates, because even though Tom trusts Harry, he really doesn’t trust the puppy in front of him. One of the heads look docile, but the other two are snarling at each other and play fighting and Tom doesn’t want either of those heads to pay attention to him.

Harry’s looking down at them fondly though, and Tom musters his courage to reach out a hand slowly. He’s not scared, of course he isn’t, but he’s sensible. He’s not going to reach out to something that can harm him, and even though he’s sure Harry would make sure he’s alright after, he still doesn’t want any unnecessary pain.

Harry notices _finally_ and sheepishly pulls Cerberus a little bit back. With a nod from his head, he magics over some dog treats into Tom’s hand. Immediately, all three heads turn to look at Tom, and they’re calm enough that he doesn’t hesitate as he holds out the treats to them.

After they devour the treats – delicately by Harry’s order – they sniff his hand and then lick it, prompting Tom to grimace at the feeling. But they’re cute, in a way, and Tom’s not a dog person, but Harry’s so happy looking down at them, he relents.

“I’ve always wanted one,” Harry says, “and you know, I’m sure you heard of Greek mythology. He’s going to be the best guard dog, aren’t you?” He directs the end of his question to Cerberus, and gets an enthusiastic lick in return, eliciting a delighted laugh from Harry.

Tom takes his time in answering, instead scrutinizing the happy Master of Death in front of him. Harry’s changed in his time up above, and it shows in the way his skin’s no longer as deathly pale as it used to be. He’s suntanned now, probably as a result from all the Quidditch he’s playing now that he’s the Seeker on the Gryffindor team, and he stands out amongst the other occupants of the underworld.

It suits him though, almost as if Harry’s always belonged up above and in the sun. He’s wondering if he should bring it up since he’s just noticed it now when someone walks up to them.

“I am not taking care of your pet dog, Master,” says the newcomer, all sickly pale just as Harry used to be, and taller than the both of them. The man’s words do nothing to dim Harry’s exuberance, and against the man’s wishes, Harry holds Cerberus out.

The man sighs heavily, his long hair covering most of his face as he obediently takes the dog, and to Tom’s surprise, Cerberus doesn’t squirm or bite or do anything hostile.

“Hello Pestilence,” says Harry, grinning. “You know you can’t lie to me. You’re overjoyed I finally found a dog to be Cerberus.”

Pestilence doesn’t deign to answer Harry, instead turning in a huff and taking Cerberus with him. Harry doesn’t follow and instead turns to Tom. “He’s shy,” he explains, and Tom just nods, dubious.

He recognizes the name, after all, and he’s sure Pestilence can’t possibly be _shy_.

“Are the Greek gods real, then?”

“No,” says Harry, “Or else I would be Hades. And have brothers, which I’m sure would be fun but it seems far more convoluted than it should be. Oh, and I’ll have a wife!”

“I can’t imagine you getting a wife like Hades did,” he says, truthfully, and Harry grins.

“You don’t think I have it in me? Can’t ask my brother to give me a pretty girl’s hand, make her fall in love with me, and then trick her into staying with me forever?”

“I don’t think you’ll have to trick anyone,” he says, “it’s fun here in the Underworld.” Every time Harry magics them down, there’s some party going on that they get to go to, and if there isn’t, Harry takes him sight-seeing. The last place they went to was extraordinary in the way ice grew on withered trees and the place before that had lights that rivaled the starry sky up above. And as an added bonus, Harry was here with him, so he doesn’t think anyone would dare try to leave Harry.

“I know,” says Harry, “After all, I have you here with me.”

Tom snorts, rolling his eyes, “Going to ask me to eat a pomegranate then?”

Harry pauses, and in-between one second and the next, a pomegranate appears in his hands. It splits open, revealing glistening red seeds inside. “Just six, please,” says Harry, cheerful as ever, and Tom sighs.

“Only for you,” he says, to humor Harry more than anything else, and he takes the six seeds Harry magics toward him.

For some reason, Harry’s green eyes are intense as they stare at him, and the air is tenser than it should be for a joke. It makes him a little short of breath as he swallows the seeds down. There’s a long pause after Tom finishes chewing and after a while, Harry clears his throat.

“Guess you’re stuck here with me forever,” says Harry, quietly, and Tom nods, much too affected to say anything else. There’s another long, tense pause before Harry excuses himself with the reasoning that he needed to find Cerberus before Pestilence fed him the wrong thing.

Tom watches Harry go, wondering if the pomegranate seeds really meant something. By the way Harry had all but run off on him, there's a high possibility it really meant he would have to stay here forever.

Surprisingly, even though Tom doesn’t want to admit it to himself, he finds he doesn’t mind as much as he should.

* * *

**December 12, Word: Posture**

Harry’s slumped over on the table in front of him, and he knows he’s whining, but Famine’s not even giving him any sympathy so he feels a little justified. Besides, with him being up above with Tom, it’s not like she sees him as often as before so he doesn’t even care that his posture is awful as he continues to gripe.

“Master,” says Famine, and she sounds a little exasperated, “Are you really comparing Tom Riddle, future Dark Lord in the making, to Persephone? The pure, innocent _goddess_?”

“Tom compared me to Hades first,” he protests, “And Tom would make a great wife.”

“I think you’re missing the point. And also letting your infatuation with your human cloud your mind. War did say she found the two of you in bed.”

“We were not in bed,” he says, coloring at the mention of the night where he had pushed too far with Tom. “I mean, I wanted to be, but he obviously didn’t.”

Famine fixes him with a look and it’s equal parts pity and disappointment. He wonders why he puts up with this when he’s supposedly their Master and he makes a face at her.

“Master,” says Famine as gently as she can, “You can’t be with a human. Especially not this human.”

“Why not? If I kidnap Tom and keep him down here forever, it’s not like he can become a Dark Lord, right? So problem solved.”

“You can’t kidnap humans,” says Famine, and she’s being unusually patient with him so he straightens up to sit back in his comfy chair, crossing his arms as he looks at his horseman. “It’s against the rules. And you definitely can’t make one of them yours.”

“We’re already doing them a favor,” argues Harry, “This gets the job done and everyone’s happy and…” he trails off because he knows he’s being unreasonable and because there’s one glaring flaw in his plan he doesn’t really want to admit.

Tom may joke around, but Harry’s sure his human doesn’t want to stay down here forever with him. He doesn’t even like Harry in the way Harry likes him and forcing Tom to spend an eternity down below where the sun doesn’t shine as his Consort isn’t right. He knows it, and Famine knows it, so he sighs heavily.

“So what do you have for me?” he asks. Famine looks relieved at the change of subject and slides over the files she’s procured for Harry before their meeting.

Harry puts all thoughts of Tom out of his mind and gets to work.

Work goes by fast with Harry being there. His four horsemen are quick in ferrying humans across to the Underworld, but Harry has to get all the paperwork done before they can actually go out on assignments. Thankfully, even with Harry spending human days up above, work doesn’t pile up thanks to his competent horsemen.

He thought they would be overworked, but apparently they still had time to do other things because the last file Famine slides over isn’t of a dead human.

It’s not even a human that’s alive.

“In all the timelines,” explains Famine, “this is the only one where he’s had a child.”

“Really?” he asks in disbelief, “this girl’s not even _born_ yet. Also,” he says, after perusing the file for a minute, “she’s a little bit insane.”

Famine hums, “Well, this is the only one I found.”

“I don’t think she fits Tom,” says Harry, and ignores the way Famine blinks slowly at him. “And I’m not just saying that because I like him.”

“Right,” says Famine, “I just wanted you to have a ballpark of what kind of people he’s into. Perhaps you should act insane?”

“Ha ha. Real funny. I should punish you for your cheek.”

Famine’s smile is small, but it’s there, and Harry closes the file, tossing it up in the air to return it to where it’s usually stored. “I have to get back before Tom wakes.”

“Of course, Master,” says Famine. “I’ll keep looking for candidates for your human’s wife.”

Harry bites back his initial retort that she should really just focus on work because Famine’s just trying to be helpful. The faster they find Tom a wife and change his future, the faster Harry can come back to the Underworld. So instead, he nods his thanks and heads back to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for your lovely comments!


	6. Dec 13 to Dec 15

**December 13, Word: Discount**

“Harry!”

Harry blinks, looking up from the homework that he’s been trying to figure out for the past hour. He knows he can cheat and just figure out the answers from Tom, but he feels a little guilty about attending Hogwarts just for Quidditch and figures he should make an effort at his education too. Even if learning human magic was useless for him, at least it’ll be fun to try to learn how human magic actually worked. Potions was confusing though with all its steps; Harry could magic any potion into existence so this was a subject he was really struggling on.

“Do you need help on that?” one of the two witches in front of him asks as she gets closer, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she peers over at his homework.

“I’m almost done,” he says, but doesn’t continue because she points out a mistake for him, giving him a coy smile when he murmurs his gratitude. The two witches are on the Quidditch team with him and while they’re mostly nice, Harry’s not oblivious enough to ignore the looks they’re giving him. Tom had mentioned it already how the girls were obviously chasing him and the look on Tom’s face as he had done so was adorable enough that Harry was almost grateful to the girls.

“So,” says the other witch, and Harry likes her a tad better than the other one. Usually, Hannah’s a little less excitable than Charlotte, but the way she’s looking at him makes him second guess his observation. “Harry, where’d you get this?”

She’s pointing at the bag Tom’s given him recently, an upgrade from the one Tom had given him in the beginning of the year. It’s a nice bag, though Harry doesn’t really understand why the girls would want a men’s bag.

“Tom gave it to me,” he says, and the two witches turn to each other, exchanging a look that Harry can’t really decipher.

“This bag must’ve cost hundreds of galleons,” says Hannah.

“Er,” he says, not sure what they wanted him to do with that information when Hannah giggles. “Maybe he got a discount on it?”

“They don’t do discounts,” Hannah waves him off. “It’s almost impossible to get the designer to actually _sell_ you a bag.”

“Is it that rare?” he asks, but the girls aren’t really listening.

“And what about this jumper?” asks Charlotte, and there’s something in her face that makes Harry want to be a bit wary.

“Tom.”

Charlotte looks a little disappointed but Hannah’s smiling so widely that Harry almost wants to give up on his homework and leave the Common Room. It’s almost bedtime and Tom’s probably waiting for him anyway.

“And the notebook?” she asks.

“Really? The notebook is expensive too?”

Hannah shoots him a pitying look. “Where did you grow up that you don’t recognize all these designer brands?”

Harry doesn’t even remember his childhood, but most importantly, why would he, as Master of Death, care about what humans touted as expensive? He didn’t even carry galleons!

It slowly hits home that he’s been letting Tom pay for him everywhere he went. He feels a little guilty about it; he knows how hard humans work for money and how important money was. He thought he was doing well enough by not asking Tom to buy him anything extraneous but apparently Tom had went ahead and bought the most expensive version of essentials he could find.

“Stop it,” Charlotte cuts in before Hannah can continue. “We already know the answer, anyway. Let’s go, Hannah.”

Hannah turns to her friend, and she’s trying to whisper but it carries to Harry anyway. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to prove to you that they’re together!”

“He’s our Professor,” argues Charlotte, “there’s no way –“

“I can hear the both of you,” Harry says, and they both turn to him, high flushes on their cheeks before Charlotte tosses her wavy, blonde hair to the side, looking every inch the pureblood heir she is.

“So?” she asks, “Are you dating our Professor?”

The question flusters him for a second because even with overhearing the girls whispering he never thought she would just ask him outright. But Harry’s not shy since he sees no reason to and so he just shrugs. “No,” he says, honestly, “He’s already rejected me.”

“He did?” asks Hannah, sounding doubtful. He sees the way she eyes the stuff they pointed out earlier and then she gasps as Charlotte elbows her in the stomach. They exchange a long glance and then Hannah’s nodding. “Oh, of course, of course he did. Don’t worry, we’ll keep your secret.”

“What secret?”

“That you like our Professor, of course,” says Hannah, chipper, and Harry eyes her warily. The two of them obviously don’t believe him, and it confuses him a little bit on why they even bothered asking if they weren’t going to believe his answer. They leave him then with a, “See you at practice tomorrow!” and start furiously whispering as soon as they’re further away from Harry.

Harry watches them go, still thoroughly confused, and wonders if he should go clear up the misunderstanding the girls are clearly suffering from. But he has to go back down to the Underworld in less than an hour and he really needs the time to go confront Tom about all the things he’s bought him.

* * *

**December 14, Word: Culture**

He drops the stuff the girls mentioned on Tom’s desk unceremoniously.

Tom looks up from where he’s grading papers, looking unruffled as he glances at the things now littering his desk. “Do you want a new bag?”

“No, I do not want a new bag,” says Harry, a little thrown, “You just got me this one yesterday.”

“Okay,” says Tom, slowly.

“The girls told me this bag cost hundreds of galleons.”

Tom looks a little smug, “It’s nice to know Hogwarts students can discern quality.”

“You don’t have to spend that much on me,” says Harry, ignoring the way Tom sounds like a snob. “I can use a regularly priced bag.”

Tom’s expression changes into one that’s vaguely threatening. He’s scowling now, and Harry’s not quite sure what set him off.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just that I don’t want you to spend all your money on me,” he tries, backpedaling in an attempt to try to get that expression off his human’s face. “I know money is very important in human culture –“

“Who else is going to pay for you, if not me?”

“I – what?”

Harry cuts himself off in confusion and Tom crosses his arms in front of him, looking even more annoyed than before. “I ran into Dumbledore a few weeks ago. I heard he waived your tuition fee.”

“I – yes?” says Harry, even though he had no idea there _was_ a tuition fee. He vaguely recalls Dumbledore saying something about it when he had asked Dumbledore to make him a student but had completely forgotten about it until now. “He did take me in as a ward.”

“He doesn’t need to pay for you,” says Tom. “I claimed the Slytherin heirship. I can pay for you myself.”

Harry doesn’t quite know how their conversation got here. So he blinks, taking a second to collect his thoughts and realizes it’s probably because Tom still has a bad relationship with Dumbledore.

“And you only deserve the best,” says Tom. “You don’t need to accept anything from anyone else if you have me.”

“Tom!” he cuts Tom off before his heart can burst from how sweet Tom’s being. “People – the girls – they think we’re in a relationship because of all of this,” he gestures at all the stuff he’s thrown on Tom’s desk and he’s sure he’s flustered enough for the two of them.

“Are we not?” asks Tom. He’s calm, calmer than Harry thought he would be considering what happened down in the Underworld, but Harry is the furthest thing from calm.

“We are?”

“We’re bonded together,” says Tom. “And War told me that you aren’t allowed to be with a human. So why not let the girls think what they want?”

“Aren’t you going to get in trouble?” he asks, deflating now that he’s realized what Tom’s getting at.

“We’re only a few years apart,” says Tom, and he no longer seems as annoyed as before. Instead, he’s smiling now, and Harry knows exactly why. Tom had been annoyed at all the girls throwing themselves at Harry and now that he’s gotten what he wants, he probably sees nothing wrong with all the money he’s spending on Harry. “And besides, it’s only senseless gossip. The girls will move on eventually.”

Harry feels like he’s missing something. He stares dubiously at Tom, but Tom just smiles beatifically back at him so he just sighs and nods. Tom’s probably right and since Tom knows more about the human world, he should probably just concede and drop it. Especially because it doesn’t sound so bad to have others think that Tom and he were in a relationship, even though he’s sure Famine is going to be annoyed with him because he’s supposed to be finding Tom a wife.

They can wait until after Harry graduates, right? Tom still needs time to become a respectable husband-to-be and Harry needs time to find the perfect candidate to be Tom’s wife. This was going great, and he can’t wait to go down to the Underworld and tell Famine this to her face.

* * *

**December 15, Word: Tower**

“I heard an interesting rumor the other day.”

Harry pauses in what he’s doing: trying to make a magical tower of the lemon drops in Dumbledore’s bowl. “Yes?”

“I heard Tom and you were in a relationship.”

“Really?” he asks. “I didn’t think that kind of gossip can make its way to the Headmaster.”

Dumbledore chuckles, “Contrary to what you think, Harry, we older adults love hearing what the students are talking about. It’s an easy way to keep track of them.”

“Well,” says Harry, “It’s mostly because I can’t date humans anyway and it was more convenient to let them think I’m taken than reject them all. I think?” He’s still not sure why they’re going this route but since he can’t really find fault with it, he just stopped thinking about it. He had no idea Dumbledore was going to confront him about it though.

Dumbledore’s nodding which means even the Headmaster thinks it’s a sensible plan.

“It helps that Tom’s taken with you,” says Dumbledore, and his eyes are twinkling which makes Harry pause. “I’ve never seen him treat someone as he does you.”

“Er,” he says, “Well, we are bonded. And I’m the Master of Death. I think Tom treats me kindly because I can kill him if I wanted. Which I don’t. And wouldn’t, of course.”

“I think it goes far beyond that,” says Dumbledore. “If the two of you were in an actual relationship, I don’t think anyone would be surprised.”

“I still need to find him a wife,” he says, instead of focusing on what Dumbledore was saying because if he did, he would also wonder if he should confess again. Perhaps even this time, make it more obvious that he’s doing so because he likes Tom and not just because they were in a convenient place and time. Maybe then Tom would have said yes.

“And perhaps you already did.”

“I did?”

Dumbledore’s smiling like he knows something, but he’s gracious enough not to tease Harry. “Is the only way to prevent Tom’s future by marrying him off? He may only need companionship to change. After all, he’s changed so much in only a few months.”

“Is he really that different?”

“Before you came into the picture, I never would’ve allowed Tom into Hogwarts without a fight. No matter how fondly I thought of Tom and no matter how much I wanted to save him, I couldn’t see a way to do so. But Tom’s showing none of the same signs anymore. The only thing he cares about are his students. And you.”

“You can’t possibly be so lenient,” says Harry, “In the files – in different timelines, you spent your whole life hating Tom!”

Dumbledore’s eyes are kind as he shakes his head. “It helps to know you are here to keep him in check.”

“I…” there’s a lot of things he can say here, things to reject what Dumbledore’s saying, things to tell Dumbledore how he’s all wrong and that Harry really isn’t the right answer here. “I can’t stay here forever.”

“Of course,” says Dumbledore, “But Tom might not need forever. He might only need right now, Harry.”

The silence stretches as Harry contemplates what Dumbledore says. It’s a route that he and his horsemen never considered. The fastest way to stop someone from causing mass death was to make them feel fulfilled in their everyday life. Marriage and love and whatnot was the fastest way to do so, but love came in all forms. Even if Harry had to leave, as long as he could allow Tom to feel love now then…wasn’t that enough?

“I should go,” says Harry, standing and Dumbledore nods, looking pleased.

“I’ll finish your tower, my boy,” says Dumbledore, waving over another lemon drop to adorn the top, and Harry distractedly nods as he heads out to find Tom.


	7. Dec 16 to Dec 18

**December 16, Word: Afford**

Harry’s been subdued for the past week. Even Quidditch isn’t enough to bring him out of his stupor and Tom’s honestly worried. After Harry confronted him about the rumors circulating about their relationship, Tom had thought he had assuaged Harry’s worries. But apparently he hadn’t been as successful as he thought because whenever someone brings it up, Harry gets a weird look on his face.

Harry’s also not subtle at all in the way he watches Tom when he thinks Tom isn’t looking. It gets especially bad during class and Tom would be endeared really but he’s much more worried about what Harry’s thinking. Harry’s gazes are enough to convince the public that the rumor about the two of them are real; the girls stop trying to crowd around Harry and instead start asking the two of them questions about their relationship.

He thinks he’ll get called in by Dumbledore because the old coot would never approve of them together, but a few weeks pass and nothing happens. And no matter what he asks Harry, Harry never tells him why he’s acting that way and instead runs away to the Underworld before Tom can really press him.

So Tom’s going a little bit out of his mind when there’s a knock on his door after Harry leaves. It’s late enough that it shouldn’t be a student and if Tom was in a saner mindset, he probably would’ve been more careful about flinging the door open. But he’s frustrated and he didn’t have a fight with Harry but there was still a weird tension in the air that made him on edge and he hated it.

War’s standing on the other side, disguised as a Slytherin Hogwarts Student. Her blood red hair is even more striking under artificial light and this time, she has it down, tumbling in wavy curls over her shoulders. She doesn’t wait for an invitation and instead strides past Tom, sitting down in the armchair Harry usually occupies.

Tom sighs in exasperation at her rudeness, and then closes the door, steeling himself for another long evening. “What’s the matter now?”

“Harry likes you,” War says, without preamble, and even though Tom knows this, knows it in the way Harry can’t take his eyes off him and the way Harry all but shudders whenever Tom gets too close, it’s still another thing to have it be told to him by one of Harry’s closest confidants. It's embarrassing, but War looks like she likes his expression because she’s smirking at him. “Yes, our Master has fallen in love with a human.”

“In love?” he asks, because it’s one thing for Harry to like him and another to …

War shrugs, “The only thing stopping Harry from kidnapping you to the Underworld is because he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. And also, because you’re a human and he can’t afford to be in love with a human.”

Tom still remembers the night Harry had fed him the pomegranate seeds. How it felt to know how badly Harry wanted him to stay down there with him forever, how tense that moment had been and then the realization after that Tom hadn’t really minded. To have confirmation now made his breath short and he had to look away before War could read it in his eyes.

“I don’t see why you’re telling me this then,” he says, “If Harry’s not planning to do something, then why come here?”

“He was going to confess to you,” says War, “but Famine stopped him.”

“Why?”

“Because we can all get in trouble for letting Harry follow his heart,” says War. “We can be stripped of our position and have another dead human take our place.”

“And what will happen to Harry?”

“He’ll be sent back to his original life,” says War. “He’ll have to live it out and maybe he’ll become Master of Death again, but maybe he won’t. The only problem is Harry’s original life wasn’t…he suffered a lot in it.”

“Then you know it?” he asks, puzzled. “Even Harry doesn’t know what happened when he was still human.”

“Of course he doesn’t know,” says War. “But we’ve all read his file. We had to know because any mentions of his name in other files have to be redacted before he can read it. If he regains his memories, it won’t be pretty.”

He frowns because War’s been talking in circles and she’s trying to tell him something but she’s doing it in such a roundabout way it’s hard for him to really understand what she’s saying. “Are you telling me to give up on Harry?”

“I’m here to give you this,” says War. She pulls out a thick file, placing it on top of his desk. “Don’t let Harry see it. It’s _your_ file.”

“Won’t you get in trouble for giving me this?”

She laughs, “Of course I will. But I’m hundreds of years old and I’ve been running the mantle of being a horseman for so long, I don’t mind if I get in trouble. I’ll be back tomorrow night to see if you’re willing to agree to my terms.”

Tom eyes the file, it’s thick and he probably won’t be able to get any sleep if he actually reads through it. But judging by what War had said, he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep after reading it anyway because it contained his future.

“I hope you make the right decision,” says War, and just like Harry, she disappears through the doorway before Tom can say anything back.

* * *

**December 17, word:blonde**

Time passes in a weird stalemate between the two of them.

Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Cup. Harry graduates and stays in Hogwarts with Tom even though he’s no longer a student. He stays as Tom’s teaching assistant, and Dumbledore is more than eager to hire Harry due to how close the two of them have gotten during the school year.

At the beginning of each year, the incoming students always whisper whenever they see Harry and Tom and no matter what Tom and Harry do, rumors continue to run rampant for the rest of the year.

They’re always just on the precipice of something whenever it’s just the two of them, but Tom always stops Harry before they can take it any further.

Thankfully, the bond is more relaxed now, and Harry can go down to the Underworld if he wanted to during the day. But he rarely does, instead choosing to stay and watch Tom teach even if Tom doesn’t really need his help.

Now that they’ve known each other for years, Harry thinks he’s fallen even more for Tom, which is silly because if anyone asks, Harry would be honest and say he thinks he’s been in love with Tom from the very beginning.

After that fateful talk with Dumbledore, Harry had been set on finding Tom and confessing. But it would’ve ruined everything, and even if Harry’s still not sure if he’s doing the right thing, at least he’s content with staying by Tom’s side as a friend. They still have every meal together and Harry’s still the last person Tom sees before he goes to sleep at night.

Tom doesn’t even mind how much Harry touches him and neither does he ever dissuade any rumors even if he doesn’t outright confirm their relationship. It’s more comfortable than Harry thought it would be and he’s glad Famine stopped him before he confessed.

It’s just that with every day passing, Harry finds it harder and harder to stop himself. When Tom does something particularly endearing, he has to physically stop himself from trying to pull Tom into a kiss or a hug or _anything_ that would be too much. He’s not human, so he tries to content himself with the knowledge that he doesn’t actually need any of those things, but sometimes it doesn’t work and instead of actually facing it, he runs away to the Underworld until he misses Tom too much to stay away.

But he can’t do that forever, especially because every time he does, Famine gets this weird look on her face and throws more files of potential wives at him than he can take. It’s one particular night however that when she does, War’s there too. Her face is always impossible to read, but for once, Harry notices something’s off.

“Come on,” says War, and to anyone else who hasn’t known her for this long, she sounds bored, but Harry can tell she’s nervous about something. “I don’t think Harry’s human likes blondes.”

“Why?” asks Famine, her lip curling, and she sounds frustrated. Probably because War’s been shooting down her proposals all night. “Because Harry's not blonde?”

“Yes,” says War, “That’s exactly it. Who are we kidding here, Famine? We know Tom’s fallen for Harry a long time ago.”

“Then how else would you propose us changing Tom’s future? We’ve been at this for three years and he’s _still_ taking Harry to those weird cult meetings.”

“They’re not cult meetings,” Harry tries to cut in and Famine turns to him, looking more outraged than he’s ever seen her.

“They’re _weird_ people that practice some truly odd magic, Harry! And they all like bow to him. That is not normal.”

“It’s not what you think,” says War, and she’s nervous enough that she’s tapping the table with a finger which is so unlike her that Harry blinks.

“Okay, what are you keeping from us?”

War can’t meet his eyes, and Famine makes another disgruntled sound next to him. “Yes, Harry’s right, you’re keeping something from us. You are oddly close with Tom and you’re always on his side. Did you do something?”

“Ah, look at that,” says War, standing from her chair and not looking at either one of them. “Pestilence is calling for me.”

Harry’s about to retort that he can’t hear anything but Pestilence is at the door. Pestilence is worse at lying than War though, and the second Harry looks at him, he’s already breaking.

“I’m sorry, Master,” he says, “War asked me and then your human asked me and you’ve been so happy…”

“I’m not mad,” says Harry, trying to sound as patient as he can even though he’s a little shocked that Tom had went and talked to Pestilence on his own. “Just tell me what you’ve three been doing.”

“Look,” says War, cutting in, “we all know the two of you like each other. I think _you_ even know Tom’s into you.”

When Harry stays silent, a hot flush on his cheeks, War presses on. “Famine stopped you from confessing which –“ she pauses to raise a hand when Famine splutters in anger “was a good thing. But you were only going to confuse Tom so I went to talk to him on my own.”

“I still don’t think that was a good idea,” mutters Pestilence but War presses on, not looking apologetic at all.

“Your time with Tom was always going to end when his future changes. So I told him not to let the future change.”

“That goes against everything we’re doing here,” says Harry, quietly, even though he can’t find it in himself to be truly angry. After all, if War hadn’t meddled, then his time with Tom could’ve ended right after he confessed. If Dumbledore had been right and that his companionship was all Tom needed then…he would’ve had to leave the next day.

This way, at least they had three years together. Even if those three years had been them dancing around each other, every day had been a day Harry had been lucky to have.

“I’m going to have to punish you,” he sighs and War nods, looking as if she expected it. “And tell Tom I know what he’s been doing.”

“Are you sure you want to?” asks War, and she doesn’t look put out at all by his earlier declaration. “I just want you two to be happy.”

“I know,” says Harry, and he reaches out and pets War on her head. Her smile is wry as he does, and it’s been a long time since he’s done so, but he just wants to show her he’s not angry. He understands where she’s coming from.

They’ve been friends for a long time now and he knows his horsemen only wants what’s best for him. He’ll have to find a suitable, but light punishment now that he knows the truth, and possibly give up everything when he goes to talk to Tom.

But they’ve had three years together. That should be enough.

* * *

**December 18, Word: Balcony**

Tom’s a little nervous. Earlier, when Tom asked if Harry wanted to accompany him to a ball to celebrate Yuletide, Harry had said he needed to talk to him.

But when he goes to pick Harry up, Harry’s wearing the dress robes Tom’s bought for him and he’s all made up as if nothing’s wrong.

There are even more witches that feel the need to talk to him that night and he loses track of Harry for the better half of an hour by the time he finally gets away from them. He has to ask around, but eventually someone points him out to the balcony.

Harry still doesn’t get cold, but Tom brings his coat anyway just in case. The balcony is secluded and the scenery is magically created to be a beautiful wintery night sky with snow falling. It’s a little pretentious if Tom is being honest, but the stars are beautiful when he looks up.

To his surprise, Harry’s sniffling. His nose is red, and Tom knows it isn’t because of the cold but he drops his coat around Harry’s shoulders even if it leaves Tom unprotected to the winter air. “Something the matter?”

“Yes,” says Harry. “I know what you and War have been doing.”

It had to come out eventually. Tom knew the risks when he agreed and even now, he doesn’t regret it. So he’s not panicked at all when Harry says that and instead sighs, low and long. “I had to do it.”

“You die, Tom. You die and suffer and – I don’t want to see you lose yourself! I mean, in the end, you look like a bloody snake, and it’s _horrifying_.”

“Mostly because of the horcruxes,” says Tom, because he’s read the file a hundred times and he’s come to terms with it. “It won’t happen the same way this time.”

Harry scowls at him, crossing his arms and at the same time pulling Tom’s coat tighter around himself for comfort. His knuckles are white and his eyes are red-rimmed and Tom’s heart aches. “You can’t become a Dark Lord. I won’t let you. I’ll kill you myself before I let you go down that route.”

“You can’t do that,” says Tom, “War’s told me the rules you operate under. That’s why this whole thing was started in the first place.”

“Screw the rules,” says Harry, but he deflates when Tom continues to stare at him. “You can’t want to become a Dark Lord. Not when you die because of a baby.”

“When did you read the file?” asks Tom, and Harry’s expression flickers. He’s not crying, but he looks close to it, and he looks away.

“I didn’t. Tom, my name is Harry.”

When he doesn’t get it, Harry looks sad when he looks back at him. “As in I’m the baby you try to kill.”

“How does that work? How did you become Master of Death if you’re from the future timeline that hasn’t even happened yet?”

“I don’t know,” says Harry. “I just – I didn’t remember until a few hours ago. I’m not even sure how my memory got triggered, I just know now why this all started. I’m trying to prevent you from killing my friends and my parents and…”

“You’re wondering why you still love me even though I’ve done all those things.”

“Yes,” says Harry, quietly, “I still love you. Because that’s not you...and because I’ve loved you enough, right? Please tell me it’s enough.”

It takes Tom a bit to answer because he's short of breath. Harry’s eyes look impossibly green as he stares up at Tom and the balcony’s roof is slanted just so that the moonlight seems to be illuminating Harry. He’s everything Tom’s loved for the better part of three years, and it almost seems crazy that they’re here, finally confessing everything even though the both of them has known since the very beginning.

“Of course it is,” he says, because how can he lie and say it isn’t? A few years ago, he would never have said this, never would’ve given up becoming a Dark Lord for a bond he didn’t even want. But it's different now. He's working at his dream job. He's teaching students and saving those that have grown up just like him. And he has Harry with him every step of the way.

And he’s seen what happens when he throws it all away and loses his sanity. He’s now seen the havoc he had wrecked upon the Wizarding World and how in the end, all he has to show for it is his death and his name forever branded a villain.

He doesn’t want that, not when he already has what he's been looking for all this time.

And that’s Harry.

So he pulls Harry closer, like he’s wanted to every second the past three years, and kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ngl when I started this I was convinced I could keep it short and finish the word each day but here I go with my ambitious outlines and word counts and my struggles to finish this on time. the confession scene was supposed to be much longer but it's almost the end of the day so I had to cut it short. hope you guys enjoyed despite all this!


	8. Dec 19 to Dec 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been playing a lot of hades, a roguelike game that is based off greek mythology and so I couldn't help adding in some details from the game. it's ridiculously fun and addicting and it has one of the cutest couples ever.

**Dec 19, word: duty**

Harry is gone the next day. And then the one after that.

Tom tries to not let it get to him. After they finally admitted they both felt the same way, he shouldn’t be worried about Harry’s disappearance.

But he is worried. He can’t help it. Harry had told him the risks and they had both decided to take it anyway. And now Harry’s been gone for almost a week.

At first, he’s sure that it’s something planned. He tries to keep up hope, but then War never shows up either. It isn’t as if Harry had been acting differently the night they were together, but Tom still knows something’s wrong. War had told him enough about what would happen if Tom let his future change and her absence can only mean one thing.

Harry _had_ changed him enough. He no longer wanted to be a Dark Lord and it seems as if admitting so was what ended up taking Harry away from him. Harry had accomplished his goal and it seemed as if that meant they no longer needed to see each other.

But Harry is still doing his duties; people are still dying as reported in the Daily Prophet. He knows there's a simple way to confront them: kill someone and wait for one of them to show up, but he knew better than to tempt fate.

Besides, there's only one place Harry could be: the Underworld.

Harry’s always been the one to take him there. The horsemen didn’t have that power which was why they only ever met Tom when he was up on the surface. There's no way Tom can go to the Underworld without Harry’s help.

Tom's crafty though. He'll find a way, especially if it means he can see Harry again.

* * *

**December 20, Word: Sheep**

After researching a dozen rituals on how to summon death, one most notably starring a sheep, Tom decided to go visit the temple he had first met Harry.

Dumbledore accepted his leave of absence with a weird expression but Tom didn’t dwell on it, knowing he had far more important things to think about.

At the village leading up to the temple, Tom dithers, watching as a young boy leads a line of sheep through the pastures. He knows that the sheep ritual had impossible odds of actually working, but that only goes to show how desperate Tom’s feeling. He misses Harry, but beyond that, he’s worried that something actually happened to him. After all, it isn’t hard to figure out that Harry’s reporting to someone and perhaps that someone isn’t very happy that Harry’s fallen in love with Tom.

Tom’s always been afraid of death. He had spent his teenage years desperately searching for a way to outwit it, to make sure it never had the chance to touch him. He had so many goals in life, after all, that coming to an untimely death would ruin everything. The horcruxes had been a failsafe, and when that had backfired, Harry had been the next one.

If he ruins this by trying to find Harry, he can really die this time.

For some reason though, Tom isn’t afraid. As sappy as it feels to admit to himself, he much rather have Harry in his life than anything else.

Mind made up, Tom turns away from the village and makes his way to the temple.

* * *

**December 21, Word: wine**

There a hooded figure standing near the dais Tom met Harry. Tom’s heart jumps into his throat as he quickens his pace but just before he can reach out, the figure turns.

It may have been Harry’s cloak, but the figure definitely isn’t Harry. After all, the figure isn’t even human. What lies beneath the hood is a skeletal face, the eye sockets simply a black hole.

And even though Tom knows this can’t be his Harry, he stammers his love’s name anyway. “Harry?”

“Ah,” breathes the figure, and it’s raspy and horrible and makes Tom shiver in fear, “There you are. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Slowly, it comes to Tom. He’s met the other three, but never the last one. “You’re Death.”

Death inclines its head, and over its shoulder, Tom can see the scythe resting on the right side of the dais. There’s also a glass full of wine, half drunk judging by the smear on the side of it, and next to it a decayed apple core. His heart aches at the sight: it has to be the apple that started it all. Back then, the bond was a nuisance, a mistake Tom had made. Now it’s something Tom would give up anything for.

“Eat this,” says Death, holding his hands out. In his cupped hands, there’s an apple, bright red and shiny just like the apple he had been given a long, long time ago.

Tom’s never met this horseman before. Death looks a lot different from the other three, and he doesn’t look very friendly with well, his missing face. But Death is the closest he’s gotten to Harry in so long, which in some way is poetic, and so he doesn’t hesitate in reaching out and taking a large bite.

He falls to the floor a second later, the apple chunk swelling in his throat and making him unable to breathe. He gasps for air, and then that’s the last thing he remembers.

* * *

**December 22, Word: chamber**

When he comes to, he coughs loudly, the apple chunk dislodging itself from his throat and ending up a few feet away. He gulps for air gratefully when he realizes he can breathe. Something’s nudging him, and he sits up slowly, opening his eyes only to see one of Cerebus’ heads staring down at him. The dog’s tongue is hanging out and behind that, he can see the tail wagging.

Harry had been so happy when Cerebus had grown, claiming him to be a watchdog just like the old Greek myths had written him to be. The three heads surely add to the image, and it seems as if Cerebus had grown quite a bit during the last few months Tom hadn’t see him.

Luckily, it seemed as if Cerebus still remembered him because other than greeting him, Cerebus did nothing to guard him from getting past him. Tom gives him a quick head scratch as thanks, on all three heads, and walks past, ending up at a door.

He’s a little worried about what he’s getting himself into, but he knows at least that he’s in the Underworld. He takes a deep breath and then slides the door open slowly. He takes a peek and when nothing moves, makes the rest of the way in.

War is standing there, and she’s dressed in attire that makes it clear she’s here for battle. She has her sword sheathed on her hip and a flail in her right hand. Her shoulders are relaxed though and Tom _knows_ her, so he calls out a tentative greeting.

“Tom!” she lights up. “What are you doing here?”

Here is apparently some type of arena. There’s an audience but they’re not humans, and neither are they making much noise.

“Death brought me here,” he says, and there’s something weird in War’s face.

“You _died_? But…well…that explains how you’re here, actually. And since Harry is…he didn’t, wait, but why aren’t you a shade?”

He hopes his confusion shows on his face because nothing War says makes sense. She catches on, shaking her head, “You mean Death sent you here. I haven’t seen the guy in a decade and turns out he’s more informed than I am. I wonder if Harry got a message out to him before well…”

“What happened to Harry?”

“You confessed to him,” accuses War. “You know exactly what happened. I told you what was going to happen if you didn’t become a Dark Lord!”

“Then he’s really been sent back…”

“Well no,” says War, and she sighs, dropping her flail onto the floor and then crossing her arms. “I haven’t seen Harry but the people coming through told me that Harry’s still in charge. I’m carrying out my punishment for helping you.”

“By doing what?”

“Preventing humans from escaping the Underworld, obviously,” says War, even though there’s nothing obvious about it. “Though I don’t have orders to _keep_ anyone out of there so…”

“There’s no need to fight,” says Tom, catching on. War nods, looking exuberant and then she unhooks her sword, handing it out to Tom.

“You’ll have to fight your way down there,” she says, “and this sword is the best way to do it. Your magic works, but you’ll get tired and swinging a sword is a lot easier down here than casting magic.”

The sword is large and cumbersome and bright red in color. Tom’s not well versed in a sword fighting but the weapon must be magical because it takes no energy at all to swing it. “Thanks,” he says, and there’s a million other questions on the tip of his tongue. But he swallows them because the huge door on the other side of the arena is opening.

There’s something there, but Tom can’t see it; there's only a shimmer where there should be a person. War doesn’t suffer from the same fate, however, and instead she just pushes him toward the door. He slips past the shimmer and goes through to the other side, the door swinging shut behind him.

* * *

**December 23, Word:orb**

There’s moss growing on the walls. Statues of great heroes litter the chamber and the whole room has a weird green tint to it. The flowers that grow through the cracks on the ground are luminescent, giving him enough light to traverse through safely.

His heart nearly stops as he catches sight of his first enemy. A hot pink orb that spins in place with butterflies emerging from inside it and it probably would be a pretty sight if Tom isn’t sure the butterflies are bad news. So he doesn’t hesitate, drawing the sword given to him in one hand and then shooting out a strong stupefy with his wand.

It takes him a while, but eventually, the pink orb is gone, leaving him panting from the exertion of it. War was right. He’ll have to rely on close combat if he wants to make it to Harry.

Luckily, the sword seems to have a mind on its own. He cheats and uses his magic defensively, making sure arrows fall wayward and any sword strike bounces off before it can hit him. With that, and the sword swinging and hitting exactly where it should, he makes his way through the different rooms easily.

As he gets closer to his goal, the enemies and biomes continue to change. Soon, instead of luminescent nature, it’s boiling hot lava, which he gets over easily by levitating himself. The enemies become a little easier to mow down, and then it’s just him and an empty room.

Before he can be relieved at the sight of no enemies, Death appears in the middle of it, scythe held backwards as he regards Tom silently.

Tom doesn’t put down his sword since Death is still holding his and backs up a little bit, his wariness of Death still there especially since he can’t read anything off Death’s skeletal face. The hood casting darkness definitely doesn’t help either and for a long second, they just stand there, staring at each other.

“You’re taking too long,” rasps Death, and Tom has a second to take it in before Death is suddenly in front of him. His scythe is still so far away from Tom but then pain is blooming in his chest from a knife wound.

Death stabbed him.

He has to take a moment to really understand the pain since Tom’s definitely never had this close of an encounter with death before, and it’s fitting that Death didn’t even use his scythe to take him down; Tom hadn’t even seen the small knife Death was now holding in his hand, Tom’s blood pooling off it.

He reaches for his wand to heal himself but Death shakes his head. He doesn’t want to trust this horsemen that not only made him choke on an apple, but now also _stabbed_ him, but the results do speak for themselves. He’s in the outskirts of the Underworld where Harry resides and Death had promised he will find Harry.

He drops his wand, struggles for a breath, and closes his eyes in defeat as everything fades.


End file.
